


I Wonder What It Is We've Done

by mydeira



Series: Something Maybe 'Verse [3]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 04:56:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen realizes that he’s well and royally fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wonder What It Is We've Done

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: through “Ghost Machine” and for the really, really good HD Series One promo (which I may have watched oh a few too many times)
> 
> Disclaimer: Sadly, I am neither RTD nor the BBC. This is purely for the exorcism of the big bad bunny that landed on my head.
> 
> A/N: Partially inspired by Pepper’s picture for last week’s prompt challenge. But mostly inspired by the fact that my brain has been taken over by a pairing I never considered considering. And now I’m hooked. Funny how that works. This is also the third piece following This Is The Point Where You Say Something Is Wrong and Someone’s Always Watching, which has turned my mad little one-off bunny into a series. *headdesk* The title is from another song, this time “Girl in the War” by Josh Ritter. And thank you to sadbhyl for kicking my ass and keeping me from settling for okay.

Owen slumped in his chair, staring at his computer screen. Well, pretending to stare was more apt. He was really keeping an eye on the conversation in Jack’s office between Jack and Gwen that had been going on since she arrived fifteen minutes earlier. Talking that long first thing in the morning was not a good sign. Just what it wasn’t a good sign of, he didn’t have a clue.

That wasn’t exactly true. He had one idea which he immediately dismissed. Gwen didn’t strike him as the type to up and quit after shagging one of her coworkers. She valued what she did too much to do that. But what else did one talk about with their boss so very seriously so bloody early in the damn morning?

It had been three days, nights technically, since Gwen Cooper showed up on his doorstep out of the blue, invited herself in, and became what was quite possibly one of the best shags he’d had in recent memory. She had given every bit as good as she got, both outside the bedroom and in. All fire and dark hair a wild tumble with luscious curves that just begged to be—he sat up abruptly, jarring himself from the thoughts. That way lay danger. That way lay a pathetic sot well on his way to being hung up on someone he was lucky to have even had a one-night stand with.

But she kept surprising him, and he hadn’t expected that with her. The biggest surprise had been the fact that she stayed around after they’d finished, hadn’t immediately gathered her things and made a break for it like everyone else seemed to, attached or no. Even after the bloke she lived with called, she’d crawled back into bed with him, curling up and falling back asleep. She was the faithful sort, Owen was almost certain, and not the type to cheat on someone she obviously cared so much about. And yet, there she had been, in his bed and seeming not all that eager to leave it. She stuck around, showered and rode into work with him on top of it. She’d used work as an excuse for not going home, so it made sense, and yet…

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she was the champion player. But he didn’t think so. She was a bloody enigma is what she was. Not as bad as Jack, but pretty damn close.

“I think the week will do you good, Gwen,” Jack’s voice pulled Owen from his thoughts. “Things get pretty intense here. And, hell, Italy, you’d be crazy not to go.”

“Thanks, Jack, I really appreciate it.” She smiled at him. “Though Rhys will appreciate it even more.”

“You know if you two really are so appreciative, I can think of several ways you can show your gratitude.”

She smacked him lightly. “A decent bottle of wine is plenty of gratitude, I think.”

“But not half as much fun.”

Owen glared at his computer. So, she was off to Italy for a week with her man, wasn’t that bloody fantastic. And he was not even remotely jealous. She was just a one-off shag. What did he care what she did?

“Owen?”

He gave a start and looked up to find Gwen staring at him with concern.

“What?” he said shortly. Seeing the stricken look on her face, he apologized. “Sorry, was lost in my thoughts.”

She smirked. “Was hoping it was that and not you ignoring me.”

“You’re a tough one to ignore, newbie,” he replied lightly. Was she ever. “So what did you need?”

“I wanted to know if you had a few minutes,” she said, looking at him straight on. But there was slight nervous catch to her voice. “To talk.”

Ah, the regret-filled speech. It was a mistake, never should have happened, et cetera. Inevitable, wasn’t it?

“Yeah,” he said finally as he stood. “Could do with a spot of fresh air.”

After an uncomfortably silent ride up in the main lift that made Owen wish that he were the type for small talk or that they had taken the stairs, they arrived upstairs where Ianto acknowledged them with a nod as they exited through the faux visitors’ center.

Gwen finally spoke when they hit the outside, much to Owen’s relief. “So, how you been sleeping?”

“Better,” he replied, figuring there was no reason to lie. Because he had been. Nice, dreamless sleep. No Lizzie Lewis pleading to go home, to live. No Ed Morgan dead at Owen’s feet, dead by his hand and Gwen looking at him like he’d betrayed her.

“Me, too.” Her response startled him from his thoughts. “Amazing how much you take it for granted.”

“It’s like a lot of things, don’t know what you’re missing until you’re missing it.” He smirked. “I suppose Ianto’s probably relieved that I’m not putting such a strain his bloody precious coffee supply anymore.”

“Last week I started popping out to the café around the corner just to avoid his death glares. Wasn’t half as good as his, though.”

“Spoils you for anything else. That’s why Tosh and I have been working together to get his recipe.”

“How’s that going?”

“You know those days when he’s looking particularly smug? Those are the days he’s managed to thwart us again.” He was surprised at how quickly things had gone from uncomfortable to not. Christ, you’d think they were good mates or something, chatting to pass the time. And he liked it. Which was why it had to stop. They weren’t mates, and he didn’t do small talk. He also knew that she hadn’t asked him up here to talk about sleep and coffee. “Fun as this is, newbie,” he forced himself to sound extremely annoyed, “I don’t fancy freezing my arse off to talk pleasantries.”

“Sorry, right, don’t know what I was thinking,” she sounded bitter. “Should cut to the chase so I don’t waste any more of your time.”

The big kiss off, yeah, he was real eager to get to that. Better to head her off than listen to the predictable schlock.

“I’m certain you’ve got a lovely little speech prepared,” Owen said without preamble. “But save it. We both know what you’re going to say. So let’s pretend you said it and moved on.” Then for good measure, he added, “And if you’re thinking of telling your bloke what happened? Don’t.”

It almost seemed like she’d expected this from him. She just gave him an arch look, barely pausing in her steps. “And why is that, Owen? Afraid you’ll get your ass kicked?” Nonchalant as Gwen seemed, there was something forced in the lightness of her tone.

“Should I be?”

“Of Rhys?” She eyed Owen, as if weighing him against her boyfriend. “You wouldn’t stand a chance if he took a notion,” she answered, but from the way she said it, it didn’t sound like such an event was all that likely. Good, he didn’t much fancy getting beat up by an angry boyfriend again. Still, getting beat up by any boyfriend was better than the time he got beat up by someone’s girlfriend. That was humiliation in the extreme.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and forged ahead. “You love him quite a bit, I suspect. At least that’s what I gather from the way you talk about him.”

“Of course I do. You think my cheating on him changes that?” she jumped in, immediately on the defensive, her pace picking up accordingly.

Bloody hell, the woman had a stride to her. “Mind letting me finish before getting all huffy?”

“Stop beating around the bush, then.”

He wondered why he was even bothering. “What I’m getting at, Gwen, is that if you really do love this bloke, you won’t tell him what happened. You don’t want the pain that goes with telling him on your conscience as well.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, grabbing hold of him to keep him there. “And what would you know about it, Owen?”

“I know plenty. And like I keep telling you, newbie, you don’t know me,” he said evenly. The flare of anger that rose up at her accusation was a blessed relief compared to the other bullshit he’d been feeling. “Consider this a bit of friendly advice. You tell Rhys, especially on this trip, and you’ll regret it even more than you regret fucking me. Believe me, sweetheart, bad as you feel about a one-night stand with me, it’s nothing next to what it’ll be when you see that look on his face.”

“Owen, wh—”

“If you love him, don’t hurt him,” he cut her off. “Not much in the mood for a walk anymore. You have yourself a lovely trip.”

He turned to head back to the Hub, only to have her pull him back.

“And what makes you think I have any regrets?”

Owen snorted. “Because deep down you’re a good girl, and good girls always regret.”

“Look at me.” She forced him to face her. “You want me to stop making assumptions about you, how about extending me the same courtesy?”

She had a point. He just wasn’t going to admit it.

“If you don’t want me making assumptions, then tell me we’re not up here so you can tell me that you’re coming over was a mistake and it never should have happened,” he said tersely.

“That’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”

He just stared at her. “Why else would you want to bloody talk to me in private?”

“Maybe I wanted to let you know that what happened the other night, it’s not going to be an issue between us.”

“Like I haven’t heard that before.” He grimaced, looking away.

Her fingers settled under his chin, lifting it up. “Yes, I do feel like shit doing something like this to Rhys. But I don’t regret it, Owen. It was what I needed that night. And I don’t think I’m wrong in guessing that you did as well.”

She was being too nice about this. If he didn’t know better, he’d actually think she didn’t despise him. “I’m a big boy, Gwen, you don’t need to spare my feelings.

Sighing, she let her hand drop. “I don’t know why I bother.”

“Because you’re a good girl.” The words came out softer than he wanted them to. “You don’t like people to get hurt.” Then he hardened his tone. Best to end this as quick and clean as possible. “But don’t worry about me, good girl, I can handle the harsh reality of a one-night stand.”

Her demeanor grew colder. “And so can I. I was just—Stuff it. Doesn’t matter. Have a fantastic week.” With that, she marched past him back toward the Hub.

As he watched her go, Owen realized that he was well and royally fucked. He had tried to do right by her, give her and easy out, and she had…hell, he wasn’t sure what she was doing. Maybe by the time she returned from her trip, things would be back to normal. But a part of him really wasn’t so eager to see normal return.


End file.
